Riders of the Wind is an epic novel of adventure and romance set in the scene of aviation during the turbulent times of the nineteen twenties and thirties. The book follows the lives of Charles and Doretta Cross through the era of the great depression, prohibition, the airmail, and the formation of the infant airlines. It graphically portrays the danger, excitement and romance of flight in the pioneering years before World War Two and takes the reader into the cockpit with the airmail pilots of the twenties and the airline route survey pilots flying the heart of the Amazon jungles. A “must read” for anyone interested in aviation or, for that matter, anyone who is merely interested in the history, dress and lifestyle of the pre-WWII era.
Excerpt:
Charlie was lost; there was no doubt about it. He was not disoriented nor was it his imagination he was definitely lost. He had left Newark two hours ago bound for Elmira on a night express mail route in an unfamiliar airplane on a run he had never flown before over terrain that was unknown to him and unfriendly to say the least. He should have known better. The plane was an almost new Boeing model 95 with a wingspan of 45 feet. It was powered by a Pratt and Whitney Hornet engine that had been making strange sounds since he had left Newark. The rattles and clanks he just put down to not being used to Pratt and Whiney engines.
Without warning there was a great gout of flame from the exhaust that lit the whole underside of the aircraft followed by a streamer of heavy smoke. The engine died with a clanking rattle, seizing solid with the prop stopped in a horizontal position. Charlie knew the signs; a connecting rod had let go. His grip on the control stick tightened and his heart rate jumped a hundred percent. He didn’t panic but went through the engine out procedures as if it were a practice drill. He began a gliding descent until he finally broke out of the overcast at three thousand feet only to see by the dim light that mountains surrounded him. He had descended into a narrow defile between ridgelines and most of the mountain peaks were now above him. Looking down he could see nothing but trees and he was approaching all too rapidly. “Oh Hell, there’s no place to land this thing, just stall into the treetops straight ahead I guess.”
Time had seemingly slowed to a crawl and a thousand thoughts raced through Charlie’s mind, At that instant something seemed to touch him on his right shoulder and he turned to see what it could be. As he did he spied a small clearing that looked to be within gliding distance but as he turned toward it he saw that it would be too close and too short.
“Well, I can’t do anything about the short but I can sure do something about it being too close.”
He slammed the stick to the right and the rudder to the left, putting the biplane into an all-out sideslip. He dropped like a stone kicking the plane straight just before he touched down at the edge of the clearing. It bounced once and slewed sideways. Charlie kicked the rudder to straighten out his course toward the far edge of the field. He thought, “Too short, and too damn fast.”
The aircraft plowed through the drifted snow, throwing plumes high into the air. Just before they reached the trees at the far end of the field the landing gear struck something buried in the snow. The wheel broke off, spinning the charging plane around to the left so the right wing was the first part of the ship to hit a tree. The wing snapped off like a twig to the accompanying sounds of breaking wood, tearing fabric, and the screech of rending metal. The headlong slide of the Boeing came to an end with the side of the fuselage against a tree. Charlie’s head snapped forward on the first impact, smashing against the instrument panel. He never felt his lower leg snap or the piece of steel tubing that penetrated his calf.
Except for the muted hiss of falling snow, silence once again reigned in the tiny valley.
Autographed paperback copies are available from the author for $19.99 plus $3.00 shipping. Pay by peronal check, money order, or PayPal. Email [email protected] .
Links to Riders of the Wind:
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UK Amazon
UK Amazon Paperback edition
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B&N Paperback edition
Smashwords
Excerpt:
Charlie was lost; there was no doubt about it. He was not disoriented nor was it his imagination he was definitely lost. He had left Newark two hours ago bound for Elmira on a night express mail route in an unfamiliar airplane on a run he had never flown before over terrain that was unknown to him and unfriendly to say the least. He should have known better. The plane was an almost new Boeing model 95 with a wingspan of 45 feet. It was powered by a Pratt and Whitney Hornet engine that had been making strange sounds since he had left Newark. The rattles and clanks he just put down to not being used to Pratt and Whiney engines.
Without warning there was a great gout of flame from the exhaust that lit the whole underside of the aircraft followed by a streamer of heavy smoke. The engine died with a clanking rattle, seizing solid with the prop stopped in a horizontal position. Charlie knew the signs; a connecting rod had let go. His grip on the control stick tightened and his heart rate jumped a hundred percent. He didn’t panic but went through the engine out procedures as if it were a practice drill. He began a gliding descent until he finally broke out of the overcast at three thousand feet only to see by the dim light that mountains surrounded him. He had descended into a narrow defile between ridgelines and most of the mountain peaks were now above him. Looking down he could see nothing but trees and he was approaching all too rapidly. “Oh Hell, there’s no place to land this thing, just stall into the treetops straight ahead I guess.”
Time had seemingly slowed to a crawl and a thousand thoughts raced through Charlie’s mind, At that instant something seemed to touch him on his right shoulder and he turned to see what it could be. As he did he spied a small clearing that looked to be within gliding distance but as he turned toward it he saw that it would be too close and too short.
“Well, I can’t do anything about the short but I can sure do something about it being too close.”
He slammed the stick to the right and the rudder to the left, putting the biplane into an all-out sideslip. He dropped like a stone kicking the plane straight just before he touched down at the edge of the clearing. It bounced once and slewed sideways. Charlie kicked the rudder to straighten out his course toward the far edge of the field. He thought, “Too short, and too damn fast.”
The aircraft plowed through the drifted snow, throwing plumes high into the air. Just before they reached the trees at the far end of the field the landing gear struck something buried in the snow. The wheel broke off, spinning the charging plane around to the left so the right wing was the first part of the ship to hit a tree. The wing snapped off like a twig to the accompanying sounds of breaking wood, tearing fabric, and the screech of rending metal. The headlong slide of the Boeing came to an end with the side of the fuselage against a tree. Charlie’s head snapped forward on the first impact, smashing against the instrument panel. He never felt his lower leg snap or the piece of steel tubing that penetrated his calf.
Except for the muted hiss of falling snow, silence once again reigned in the tiny valley.
Autographed paperback copies are available from the author for $19.99 plus $3.00 shipping. Pay by peronal check, money order, or PayPal. Email [email protected] .
Links to Riders of the Wind:
US Amazon
US Amazon Paperback edition
UK Amazon
UK Amazon Paperback edition
B&N
B&N Paperback edition
Smashwords
Winds of Fate is by definition a war story but it is much more. The novel follows Colonel Charles Cross from the security of the civilian airlines to China, Burma and India as a civilian Air Force Service Pilot flying the deadly Hump missions over the Himalayas and supplying the Allied Forces in Imphal during the Japanese siege of that city. Winds of Fate also accompanies Doretta Cross into the world of the Women’s Airforce Ferry Service (WAFS) and the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASPs) and into deadly danger herself.
Winds of Fate is a novel filled with adventure, wartime action, humor and a bit of mysticism, yet it is also a love story; a story of a man and a woman who find each other amidst the thunder and chaos of war and the hope they embrace for a better future. Major events portrayed in the novel are actual historical events and many characters are based on real people.
Winds of Fate is for all who are interested in aviation, history, romance, or for that matter, anyone who simply likes an exciting read.
EXCERPT:
The weather was fine with the visibility unlimited and moderate winds aloft. A rare day for the Hump. The mountains to the north stood out in bold relief and Tyler swore that he could pick out Everest. About fifty miles out from Kunming the radioman called to Charlie, “Three ball alert at Kunming, Boss. Bombers escorted by a bunch of fighters. They recommend we divert to Chikiang.”
“OK sergeant, tune in the Chikiang beacon and give me a heading. We’ll go direct from here.” Charlie had a gut feeling that they were heading right into trouble, but there wasn’t much of anything else he could do except to turn around and head back to Jorhat or Chabua. He looked over at Tyler, whose mouth was drawn into a grim line, remembering Tokyo Rose’s words of the previous night. “Charlie, do you reckon we’re flying into a trap?” he asked. He fingered the .45 colt in his underarm holster, saying, “If they jump us, these things won’t do us much good.”
“If we’re going to be jumped Tyler, so is everyone else heading for Kunming this morning. We’re all unarmed and not much chance of an escort by the Tigers.” Charlie’s fondest wish at that moment was to see a couple of Flying Tiger P-40s appear on his wing tip, but what did appear, flying about a mile behind them was another C-46 from one of the Chabua squadrons. Charlie slowed a bit and the other transport tucked in behind them and to the right.
Minutes later Tyler yelled, “Fighters at two o’clock.” Charlie looked to his right hoping to see friendly aircraft, but no such luck. As the three sleek, low wing aircraft flashed by, the red meatball of the Japanese Air Force stood out like a sore thumb against the olive green of their fuselages. They made a wide turn and then closed on the comparatively slow transports from behind. Charlie began taking evasive action, juking left and right and nosing down toward the mountaintops, hoping to find a gorge or valley to follow.
Suddenly they heard the “pink-pink” of bullets holing the fuselage and the right engine began to trail smoke. This was followed by an explosion that in normal circumstances would have been deafening. It did not come from their aircraft however, but was behind them. Charlie looked around in time to see a huge fireball where the other C-46 should have been. In place of a whole airplane there was now nothing but flame, smoke and slowly falling debris. Charlie was too busy trying to fly his own aircraft to say anything but he thought, “Poor bastards, they must have been carrying avgas.”
After a moment one of the Japanese fighters pulled up on their right wing close enough so Charlie and Tyler could see the wide grin on the pilot’s face. By this time there was a Jap fighter on their left wing as well and one flying some distance away, pacing them. Briefly Charlie thought of turning sharply to the right and ramming the Jap pilot, but he would be risking the lives of Tyler and the radioman as well as his own so he continued straight ahead. The Jap pilot grinned and waved once more, drawing a finger across his throat in a cutting motion. He then turned right in a vertical bank and all three Zeroes sped away and were soon lost to sight.
“Cheeky SOB,” Tyler growled at the receding enemy aircraft. “Come back some other day and we’ll fry your bacon.” He shook his fist at the departing fighters.
The reason that the zeroes had left so suddenly soon became apparent as a flight of three shark mouthed P-40s pulled up next to the struggling C-46 and wagged their wings. Charlie mumbled cynically, “Better late than never.” Even though he well knew that the Flying Tigers gave them the only protection available to the Hump crews.
Charlie was still shaking, but managed to shut down and feather the smoking engine and a few minutes later they began their descent into Chikiang followed by the P-40s, one of whom taxied to the parking area and shut down next to them. The pilot slid back his canopy, climbed out and walked over to Charlie’s plane.
As Charlie and Tyler slid down the ladder to the ground the P-40 pilot stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Greg Boyington, Major, and you must be Charlie Cross. Sorry we didn’t get to you sooner, but we just got back from a mission and were re-arming. We got off as soon as we could. There weren’t supposed to be any Jap fighters around here, they were all supposed to be around Kunming. That’s why Kunming tower diverted you.” Boyington removed his crumpled officer’s cap, scratched his head and re-hung it on the back of his head. “It’s gettin’ so you can’t trust the Japs any more, even Tokyo Rose. She said that they were gonna shoot you guys down near Kunming, so that’s where we went. Sorry about the other C-46. We got three of them though.” He turned and walked back to his plane.
Charlie and Tyler stared at the retreating back, which was clad in a hodge-podge of rumpled and none too clean uniform and Charlie remembered hearing that Boyington, though a rascal, had the highest number of Japanese aircraft shot down of any of the Tigers.
As the two pilots checked into operations, Charlie noted the sign over the door, which read, as at Kunming, “China is not for the timid.” He thought that under the circumstances those words were very appropriate.
As the ground crew unloaded their plane, Charlie and Tyler counted bullet holes, finding twenty-seven in the rear fuselage and the right wing. None had done any major damage and the smoke from the right engine was due to an oil line that had been clipped by a bullet. It took only an hour for the mechanics to fix it but the remaining holes would have to be patched at home base.
They finally arrived back at Jorhat about two AM, filling out their form one for the mechanics to fix the bullet holes, discharging the few mail sacks they had carried back from Chikiang and heading for their basha and some much needed sleep.
The following morning they were awakened by the squadron clerk, telling them that they were scheduled for a flight to Kunming with a light cargo that afternoon. “By the way Sir,” the clerk said, “we were listening to Tokyo Rose this morning and she said that the fighters had let you get away yesterday, but that you’re gonna die today. I wouldn’t put much stock in it though.” He cheerfully whistled his way out the door.
Later Charlie was in the middle of getting a weather briefing when Kolwici appeared at the door of the weather shack, motioning to Tyler who had a whispered conversation with him and then disappeared. The weather over the Rockpile was again going to be fine and Charlie thought that never before had he wished for bad weather. He was, he decided, overly nervous from his experience of yesterday and convinced himself that vague threats were to be paid attention to but not to scare him into not flying the mission.
They had drawn their own airplane, Ol’99 and as Charlie and Tyler walked to the flight line Tyler read the load manifest. “Charlie,” he said with a look of disbelief, “Do you know what we’re carrying?” Charlie shook his head and Tyler replied, “We’re carrying a load of Kotex.”
“A load of WHAT?”
“Kotex, you know, sanitary napkins. We got a whole plane load.”
“Well Tyler, at least they’re not heavy and they don’t explode. I wonder who they’re for though.”
At this moment Kolwici walked up carrying a barracks bag that seemed to be extremely heavy and provided the answer to Charlie’s question. “They’re going to the Flying Tigers, Boss,” he said. “They use ‘em in the oil filters on the P-40s. Nobody can find any of the right filter elements and Kotex works just fine.”
This question answered Charlie asked, “What’s in the bag Sarge?”
Kolwici answered, “Well, I wasn’t supposed to tell ya Major, but the lieutenant here wanted me to get him a coupla’ British Bren Guns. I managed to liberate three of ‘em and a bunch of spare magazines. I swapped the Brits some C-rations and a couple dozen cans of Spam for ‘em. Better get in the plane before ya take ‘em out of the bag so nobody sees ‘em.” He looked at Tyler. “I couldn’t get the other thing though Sir, just ain’t none to be had anyplace around here.” Charlie gave Tyler and Kolwici a suspicious look but climbed into the plane with no further questions. He did wonder though, just where Kolwici got the C-rations and the Spam to trade.
When he and Tyler had unpacked the bag, taken a Bren gun apiece and given one to Murphy, the radioman, Charlie asked, “And just what was that something else Kolwici was supposed to find for you?”
Tyler answered in a small voice, “Just a bazooka, Charlie.” Charlie looked at him incredulously, totally surprised for the third time that day. “A BAZOOKA! What in hell were you going to do with that?”
“Oh, nothing, just maybe shoot down a Jap fighter, maybe, hopefully. I guess. Gee Charlie, we gotta have something to defend ourselves with. If that idiot pulls up next to us again, a bazooka would be just the thing to blow him out of the sky. Murphy was in on it too since he knows how to use one. The plan was, if we got the same guy to fly on our wingtip again, was for me to slide the side window open and shoot the Bren gun at him and when Murph heard me fire he’d open the over wing hatch and let him have it with the bazooka.”
Charlie laughed. “Not a bad plan Tyler, providing the Jap pilot decides to fly formation with us again, he doesn’t just shoot us down out of hand, we can get away from his buddies, and you can aim straight. Tell you what, if he shows up we’ll keep the same plan, but you and I will both fire out the side window. Murph can use his Bren gun instead of the bazooka. And you were shocked when Ernesto called me a gunslinger back in Brazil. Looks like we have two gun Tyler, the Texas lawman here with us now.”
Tyler’s face reddened, but he retained his determined expression.
The weather on the majority of the flight was perfect, with unlimited visibility, the usual strong winds over the Himalayas and smooth air above nineteen thousand feet. Charlie and Tyler were lulled into a sense of security that was abruptly broken by the sudden appearance of a single Japanese fighter a couple of miles ahead of them. Catching sight of them the Japanese pilot rolled the Zero into a steep bank and approached them head on, coming at them with a closing speed of nearly five hundred miles per hour. The fighter flashed by under the C-46 so close that Charlie could clearly see the pilot. The fighter made a swift turn and rolled out on their tail, firing his guns and missing with most of his rounds. Some incendiary bullets however, penetrated the aft fuselage of Ol’99 and set some of the Kotex boxes on fire. The shooting stopped as suddenly as it had begun and the Japanese fighter appeared on their left wingtip. By the numbers and markings on the enemy aircraft Charlie knew it to be the same pilot who had nearly shot them down on the last trip.
“Tyler, that’s the same son of a gun that threatened us last time. He’s a little too far away for the Bren guns yet. Let him get a little closer. Murph, get back there and get ready to open the over wing hatch. Open it and start shooting when I give the word. Tyler, I’ll scoot my seat back so we can both fire out the side window. Keep your gun down until we get ready so he doesn’t see that we’re armed. Here he comes, get ready.”
The Japanese pilot closed on them until there was only a few feet between his wing tip and that of the C-46. He pushed up his goggles and gave them the same toothy grin of a few days ago, again drawing his finger across his throat in a cutting motion. Charlie gave a low growl, reminiscent of an attacking wolf, and yelled, “NOW GUYS!” He slid the side window back, stuck his Bren gun out and suddenly found Tyler almost in his lap, the muzzle of his own gun out the window and already firing. The noise was deafening and brass shell cases were flying around the cockpit, bouncing off everything. From the back Charlie could hear Murph firing as well. A closely stitched line of bullet holes appeared in the engine cowling of the Zero and a thin trail of smoke began to issue from the cooling cowl flaps. The Japanese pilot gave them a surprised look and began to descend below their wing tip. Charlie saw bullet holes suddenly appear in their own wing and yelled, “Cease fire. You guys are going to shoot down your own airplane for cat’s sake.” He cranked the big transport around in a tight turn to the right, afraid that the enemy pilot would try to ram them, but when they got the Zero in sight he was well below and the slight bit of smoke they had observed had turned into a trail of flame. The Japanese pilot slid back his canopy, climbed out on the wing and slid off, his chute opening a few thousand feet below. The Zero continued on until it hit a mountain ridge, crashed and burned.
Only then did Charlie, prompted by a strange smell from the rear cabin, remember the burning Kotex boxes. “Murph,” he called. “Get back there and kick those boxes out the door before we go down in flames too.” His order was rewarded by a cold draft on the back of his neck and a veritable snowstorm of Kotex falling from the cargo door of OL’99 as the slipstream caught the boxes and tore them open.
They arrived at Kunming with half a load of cargo and an airplane that had some bullet holes in the wing that seemed to have come from a very odd angle. Charlie said in an aside to Tyler that it was a good thing they hadn’t gotten the bazooka. Murphy probably would have blown their wing off.
When they told the Operations Officer of their encounter he gave them an incredulous look and said that he would have their story verified. A week later a Chinese patrol picked up the Japanese pilot and he confirmed in a very embarrassed manner that he had been shot down by a C-46.
Back at Jorhat a happy Kolwici painted a small Japanese flag on the side of OL’99s cockpit. Also Charlie, Tyler and Murphy all received a letter from headquarters commending their action and recommending them for the Air Medal, usually awarded only to combat pilots.
All this sparked a rush by all the flight crews to obtain British Bren guns, some even scrounging US infantry .30 caliber machine guns. So far Charlie’s crew were the only ones to shoot down an enemy aircraft from a transport. This record did not last however, since another crew caught a disabled Zero in a field and shot it up, setting it on fire and killing the pilot.
American ingenuity reigned. One crew even turned their C-46 into a bomber when they flew over a Japanese encampment, noted it’s position and kept back some 100 lb. bombs from their load. They flew over the enemy camp on the return trip and kicked the bombs out the door. Not much damage was done, but they set the enemy troops into a panic.
Autographed paperback copies of Winds of Fate are available from the author at $17.99 plus $3.00 shipping. email me at: [email protected] You may pay by peronal check, money order or PayPal.
Links to Winds of Fate:
US Amazon
US Amazon paperback edition
UK Amazon
UK Amazon paperback edition
B&N
B&N paperback edition
Smashwords
Winds of Fate is a novel filled with adventure, wartime action, humor and a bit of mysticism, yet it is also a love story; a story of a man and a woman who find each other amidst the thunder and chaos of war and the hope they embrace for a better future. Major events portrayed in the novel are actual historical events and many characters are based on real people.
Winds of Fate is for all who are interested in aviation, history, romance, or for that matter, anyone who simply likes an exciting read.
EXCERPT:
The weather was fine with the visibility unlimited and moderate winds aloft. A rare day for the Hump. The mountains to the north stood out in bold relief and Tyler swore that he could pick out Everest. About fifty miles out from Kunming the radioman called to Charlie, “Three ball alert at Kunming, Boss. Bombers escorted by a bunch of fighters. They recommend we divert to Chikiang.”
“OK sergeant, tune in the Chikiang beacon and give me a heading. We’ll go direct from here.” Charlie had a gut feeling that they were heading right into trouble, but there wasn’t much of anything else he could do except to turn around and head back to Jorhat or Chabua. He looked over at Tyler, whose mouth was drawn into a grim line, remembering Tokyo Rose’s words of the previous night. “Charlie, do you reckon we’re flying into a trap?” he asked. He fingered the .45 colt in his underarm holster, saying, “If they jump us, these things won’t do us much good.”
“If we’re going to be jumped Tyler, so is everyone else heading for Kunming this morning. We’re all unarmed and not much chance of an escort by the Tigers.” Charlie’s fondest wish at that moment was to see a couple of Flying Tiger P-40s appear on his wing tip, but what did appear, flying about a mile behind them was another C-46 from one of the Chabua squadrons. Charlie slowed a bit and the other transport tucked in behind them and to the right.
Minutes later Tyler yelled, “Fighters at two o’clock.” Charlie looked to his right hoping to see friendly aircraft, but no such luck. As the three sleek, low wing aircraft flashed by, the red meatball of the Japanese Air Force stood out like a sore thumb against the olive green of their fuselages. They made a wide turn and then closed on the comparatively slow transports from behind. Charlie began taking evasive action, juking left and right and nosing down toward the mountaintops, hoping to find a gorge or valley to follow.
Suddenly they heard the “pink-pink” of bullets holing the fuselage and the right engine began to trail smoke. This was followed by an explosion that in normal circumstances would have been deafening. It did not come from their aircraft however, but was behind them. Charlie looked around in time to see a huge fireball where the other C-46 should have been. In place of a whole airplane there was now nothing but flame, smoke and slowly falling debris. Charlie was too busy trying to fly his own aircraft to say anything but he thought, “Poor bastards, they must have been carrying avgas.”
After a moment one of the Japanese fighters pulled up on their right wing close enough so Charlie and Tyler could see the wide grin on the pilot’s face. By this time there was a Jap fighter on their left wing as well and one flying some distance away, pacing them. Briefly Charlie thought of turning sharply to the right and ramming the Jap pilot, but he would be risking the lives of Tyler and the radioman as well as his own so he continued straight ahead. The Jap pilot grinned and waved once more, drawing a finger across his throat in a cutting motion. He then turned right in a vertical bank and all three Zeroes sped away and were soon lost to sight.
“Cheeky SOB,” Tyler growled at the receding enemy aircraft. “Come back some other day and we’ll fry your bacon.” He shook his fist at the departing fighters.
The reason that the zeroes had left so suddenly soon became apparent as a flight of three shark mouthed P-40s pulled up next to the struggling C-46 and wagged their wings. Charlie mumbled cynically, “Better late than never.” Even though he well knew that the Flying Tigers gave them the only protection available to the Hump crews.
Charlie was still shaking, but managed to shut down and feather the smoking engine and a few minutes later they began their descent into Chikiang followed by the P-40s, one of whom taxied to the parking area and shut down next to them. The pilot slid back his canopy, climbed out and walked over to Charlie’s plane.
As Charlie and Tyler slid down the ladder to the ground the P-40 pilot stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Greg Boyington, Major, and you must be Charlie Cross. Sorry we didn’t get to you sooner, but we just got back from a mission and were re-arming. We got off as soon as we could. There weren’t supposed to be any Jap fighters around here, they were all supposed to be around Kunming. That’s why Kunming tower diverted you.” Boyington removed his crumpled officer’s cap, scratched his head and re-hung it on the back of his head. “It’s gettin’ so you can’t trust the Japs any more, even Tokyo Rose. She said that they were gonna shoot you guys down near Kunming, so that’s where we went. Sorry about the other C-46. We got three of them though.” He turned and walked back to his plane.
Charlie and Tyler stared at the retreating back, which was clad in a hodge-podge of rumpled and none too clean uniform and Charlie remembered hearing that Boyington, though a rascal, had the highest number of Japanese aircraft shot down of any of the Tigers.
As the two pilots checked into operations, Charlie noted the sign over the door, which read, as at Kunming, “China is not for the timid.” He thought that under the circumstances those words were very appropriate.
As the ground crew unloaded their plane, Charlie and Tyler counted bullet holes, finding twenty-seven in the rear fuselage and the right wing. None had done any major damage and the smoke from the right engine was due to an oil line that had been clipped by a bullet. It took only an hour for the mechanics to fix it but the remaining holes would have to be patched at home base.
They finally arrived back at Jorhat about two AM, filling out their form one for the mechanics to fix the bullet holes, discharging the few mail sacks they had carried back from Chikiang and heading for their basha and some much needed sleep.
The following morning they were awakened by the squadron clerk, telling them that they were scheduled for a flight to Kunming with a light cargo that afternoon. “By the way Sir,” the clerk said, “we were listening to Tokyo Rose this morning and she said that the fighters had let you get away yesterday, but that you’re gonna die today. I wouldn’t put much stock in it though.” He cheerfully whistled his way out the door.
Later Charlie was in the middle of getting a weather briefing when Kolwici appeared at the door of the weather shack, motioning to Tyler who had a whispered conversation with him and then disappeared. The weather over the Rockpile was again going to be fine and Charlie thought that never before had he wished for bad weather. He was, he decided, overly nervous from his experience of yesterday and convinced himself that vague threats were to be paid attention to but not to scare him into not flying the mission.
They had drawn their own airplane, Ol’99 and as Charlie and Tyler walked to the flight line Tyler read the load manifest. “Charlie,” he said with a look of disbelief, “Do you know what we’re carrying?” Charlie shook his head and Tyler replied, “We’re carrying a load of Kotex.”
“A load of WHAT?”
“Kotex, you know, sanitary napkins. We got a whole plane load.”
“Well Tyler, at least they’re not heavy and they don’t explode. I wonder who they’re for though.”
At this moment Kolwici walked up carrying a barracks bag that seemed to be extremely heavy and provided the answer to Charlie’s question. “They’re going to the Flying Tigers, Boss,” he said. “They use ‘em in the oil filters on the P-40s. Nobody can find any of the right filter elements and Kotex works just fine.”
This question answered Charlie asked, “What’s in the bag Sarge?”
Kolwici answered, “Well, I wasn’t supposed to tell ya Major, but the lieutenant here wanted me to get him a coupla’ British Bren Guns. I managed to liberate three of ‘em and a bunch of spare magazines. I swapped the Brits some C-rations and a couple dozen cans of Spam for ‘em. Better get in the plane before ya take ‘em out of the bag so nobody sees ‘em.” He looked at Tyler. “I couldn’t get the other thing though Sir, just ain’t none to be had anyplace around here.” Charlie gave Tyler and Kolwici a suspicious look but climbed into the plane with no further questions. He did wonder though, just where Kolwici got the C-rations and the Spam to trade.
When he and Tyler had unpacked the bag, taken a Bren gun apiece and given one to Murphy, the radioman, Charlie asked, “And just what was that something else Kolwici was supposed to find for you?”
Tyler answered in a small voice, “Just a bazooka, Charlie.” Charlie looked at him incredulously, totally surprised for the third time that day. “A BAZOOKA! What in hell were you going to do with that?”
“Oh, nothing, just maybe shoot down a Jap fighter, maybe, hopefully. I guess. Gee Charlie, we gotta have something to defend ourselves with. If that idiot pulls up next to us again, a bazooka would be just the thing to blow him out of the sky. Murphy was in on it too since he knows how to use one. The plan was, if we got the same guy to fly on our wingtip again, was for me to slide the side window open and shoot the Bren gun at him and when Murph heard me fire he’d open the over wing hatch and let him have it with the bazooka.”
Charlie laughed. “Not a bad plan Tyler, providing the Jap pilot decides to fly formation with us again, he doesn’t just shoot us down out of hand, we can get away from his buddies, and you can aim straight. Tell you what, if he shows up we’ll keep the same plan, but you and I will both fire out the side window. Murph can use his Bren gun instead of the bazooka. And you were shocked when Ernesto called me a gunslinger back in Brazil. Looks like we have two gun Tyler, the Texas lawman here with us now.”
Tyler’s face reddened, but he retained his determined expression.
The weather on the majority of the flight was perfect, with unlimited visibility, the usual strong winds over the Himalayas and smooth air above nineteen thousand feet. Charlie and Tyler were lulled into a sense of security that was abruptly broken by the sudden appearance of a single Japanese fighter a couple of miles ahead of them. Catching sight of them the Japanese pilot rolled the Zero into a steep bank and approached them head on, coming at them with a closing speed of nearly five hundred miles per hour. The fighter flashed by under the C-46 so close that Charlie could clearly see the pilot. The fighter made a swift turn and rolled out on their tail, firing his guns and missing with most of his rounds. Some incendiary bullets however, penetrated the aft fuselage of Ol’99 and set some of the Kotex boxes on fire. The shooting stopped as suddenly as it had begun and the Japanese fighter appeared on their left wingtip. By the numbers and markings on the enemy aircraft Charlie knew it to be the same pilot who had nearly shot them down on the last trip.
“Tyler, that’s the same son of a gun that threatened us last time. He’s a little too far away for the Bren guns yet. Let him get a little closer. Murph, get back there and get ready to open the over wing hatch. Open it and start shooting when I give the word. Tyler, I’ll scoot my seat back so we can both fire out the side window. Keep your gun down until we get ready so he doesn’t see that we’re armed. Here he comes, get ready.”
The Japanese pilot closed on them until there was only a few feet between his wing tip and that of the C-46. He pushed up his goggles and gave them the same toothy grin of a few days ago, again drawing his finger across his throat in a cutting motion. Charlie gave a low growl, reminiscent of an attacking wolf, and yelled, “NOW GUYS!” He slid the side window back, stuck his Bren gun out and suddenly found Tyler almost in his lap, the muzzle of his own gun out the window and already firing. The noise was deafening and brass shell cases were flying around the cockpit, bouncing off everything. From the back Charlie could hear Murph firing as well. A closely stitched line of bullet holes appeared in the engine cowling of the Zero and a thin trail of smoke began to issue from the cooling cowl flaps. The Japanese pilot gave them a surprised look and began to descend below their wing tip. Charlie saw bullet holes suddenly appear in their own wing and yelled, “Cease fire. You guys are going to shoot down your own airplane for cat’s sake.” He cranked the big transport around in a tight turn to the right, afraid that the enemy pilot would try to ram them, but when they got the Zero in sight he was well below and the slight bit of smoke they had observed had turned into a trail of flame. The Japanese pilot slid back his canopy, climbed out on the wing and slid off, his chute opening a few thousand feet below. The Zero continued on until it hit a mountain ridge, crashed and burned.
Only then did Charlie, prompted by a strange smell from the rear cabin, remember the burning Kotex boxes. “Murph,” he called. “Get back there and kick those boxes out the door before we go down in flames too.” His order was rewarded by a cold draft on the back of his neck and a veritable snowstorm of Kotex falling from the cargo door of OL’99 as the slipstream caught the boxes and tore them open.
They arrived at Kunming with half a load of cargo and an airplane that had some bullet holes in the wing that seemed to have come from a very odd angle. Charlie said in an aside to Tyler that it was a good thing they hadn’t gotten the bazooka. Murphy probably would have blown their wing off.
When they told the Operations Officer of their encounter he gave them an incredulous look and said that he would have their story verified. A week later a Chinese patrol picked up the Japanese pilot and he confirmed in a very embarrassed manner that he had been shot down by a C-46.
Back at Jorhat a happy Kolwici painted a small Japanese flag on the side of OL’99s cockpit. Also Charlie, Tyler and Murphy all received a letter from headquarters commending their action and recommending them for the Air Medal, usually awarded only to combat pilots.
All this sparked a rush by all the flight crews to obtain British Bren guns, some even scrounging US infantry .30 caliber machine guns. So far Charlie’s crew were the only ones to shoot down an enemy aircraft from a transport. This record did not last however, since another crew caught a disabled Zero in a field and shot it up, setting it on fire and killing the pilot.
American ingenuity reigned. One crew even turned their C-46 into a bomber when they flew over a Japanese encampment, noted it’s position and kept back some 100 lb. bombs from their load. They flew over the enemy camp on the return trip and kicked the bombs out the door. Not much damage was done, but they set the enemy troops into a panic.
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COMING SOON
The Winds of Kunlun Shan, book three in the Riders of the Wind series; a story of adventure, espionage, romance, and a trek through one of the deadliest deserts on Earth in post-WWII China, during the Cultural Revolution.
The Winds of Kunlun Shan, book three in the Riders of the Wind series; a story of adventure, espionage, romance, and a trek through one of the deadliest deserts on Earth in post-WWII China, during the Cultural Revolution.